


Not In Kansas Anymore

by Jellyfiggles



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Alternate Universe - Underswap, Crushes, Death Threats, Dubious Consent, Fontcest, M/M, Soul Sex, Teleportation, Threats of Violence, future violence, implied PTSD, universe hopping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-05-29 20:24:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6392263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jellyfiggles/pseuds/Jellyfiggles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He stared past the sign to see quaint, log buildings tucked neatly together. This could not be Snowdin. The layout was much the same but where were the dark brick buildings? It was quiet and there were coloured lights on the houses and... and...</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Underfell Papyrus ends up in Underswap and causes havoc. And maybe romance. Eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mysterious Place

**Author's Note:**

> Rating will go up as content becomes more graphic/adult
> 
> \- Fluffy Fluff (http://frickfishstick.tumblr.com/)

The machine had sat, unused and gathering thicker and thicker layers of dust, for as long as he could recall. It had been a decade at least since he had seen Sans even go near it, the hidden lab behind their residence left securely locked and long-abandoned.

It had preyed on his mind until, this evening, he had decided to examine it’s full use. Papyrus ordered his older brother to sleep and checked that he had obeyed, peering into the darkened bedroom to see the smaller skeleton twitching in a light and wary doze. Eventually, he would slip into a deeper sleep if left undisturbed and Papyrus intended to.

He had other pressing matters at hand.

The key screeched as it turned, unwillingly, in the rusty lock and the smell of stale dust almost made him cough. Papyrus knew that the machine had something to do with their long-disappeared father, but Sans had refused to disclose the full nature of the connection. Even after a berating and a sharp smack around the skull.

The machine was surprisingly easy to turn on, he’d assumed it was broken. The array of buttons, levers and exposed circuitry held little appeal, so he let them be for now. The buzzing hum and electrical thrum as the machine powered up made him feel unexpectedly nervous. The tall skeleton scoffed at himself. Ridiculous, fearing some worthless invention created by his idiot brother and a scientist nobody could recall the name of. That hardly indicated any level of success or ingenuity. 

There was a series of clicks, pops and the machine sparked and he leapt back reflectively when a swirling sphere of light appeared mid-air, crackling with electricity. Papyrus crouched, defensive, as the sphere gradually grew and thinned, the revolving light slowing until it became like a circular window, almost reaching his own height. He blinked in surprise and rose to his feet. Snow, distant trees, was this a teleport simply to Snowdin? If so it was rather pointless. If it could be redirected to other areas however… well, it might prove to be an asset.

He reached towards the window tentatively, warily brushing the surface. His gloved claws tingled, sliding into the image as through into a pool of water. He felt a chill breeze and contemplated his next move. There was little point in attempting to tinker with a machine that did not work. It would make sense to use the teleporter and return to change the destination.

He stepped forwards and pushed himself into the sphere.

Cold. Papyrus choked down a gasp as the stale air suddenly became crisp and chill. The crunch of his boots in the snow was the first sound to register. The next was the wind. The tall skeleton gave a swift glance around, checking his surroundings for adversaries. Appearing suddenly from thin air may have attracted some dangerous attention. The area appeared empty, although a wooden sentry station lay just beyond a clump of trees. As he walked towards it he blinked and paused. That… that was unlike any of the Royal Guard’s sentry stations. It had no metal spikes, no spears, no sentry station would be left completely unguarded. That was… odd and disconcerting. Perhaps a rebuild of a destroyed station or a new recruit. He had not been informed of either occurrence however which was strange.

He would find whoever was responsible and demand answers.

\--

The meat was burning. Sans gave a yelp, rushing to the stove in panic. If the mince burned the tacos would be ruined and dinner would be a mess and how could he call himself a member of the Royal guard (In Training!) if he couldn't even create a decent meal?!

Alphys would never let him live it down. She’d have him over for cooking lessons every day for a week. He never could smash the guacamole hard enough. Alphys was always sending a splatter of avocado up to the ceiling whereas his hardly reached beyond the countertop.

He stirred the mince and sighed in relief, it appeared relatively unscathed. Papy never outright complained when it was burned but his brother did chew with less… enthusiasm. Sans added more seasoning, pondering if he should toast the taco shells now or wait until later.

\--

Papyrus had passed the sentry station a while ago, crunching through the snow until he reached a cheerful sign welcoming him to Snowdin. That.. that could not be right. His jaw slackened a little, the town was not marked as to throw off enemies.This must be some kind of foolish prank. He vowed to have the culprits flogged. Publically. He was nobody’s fool. 

He stared past the sign to see quaint, log buildings tucked neatly together. This could not be Snowdin. The layout was much the same but where were the dark brick buildings? It was quiet and there were coloured lights on the houses and... and he drew back defensively as he noticed the few monsters going about their day-to-day activities, slipping behind a tree to watch the bizarrely carefree monsters.

He considered for a moment and thought back, back long years past when Sans would drink and mutter and spoke of alternate timelines and ‘the multiverse theory’. He had thought nothing of it then, Sans spoke of many incomprehensible things and cried like a miserable wretch when intoxicated. Was it possible that the machine had taken him to a different timeline or universe?

Two children ran past him, a large mouse and a tiny, red horned creature bundled in a huge scarf. They paused to look back at him and the tiny creature spoke "Papyrus? Why're you dressed funny?"

Papyrus felt himself tense up and he glared down threateningly. "I do not know you child. Insult me again and I will not hesitate to remove your tongue."

There was some satisfaction in the two children's yelps and the sight of them running. But he felt more than a little confused and concerned. Another Papyrus resided in this world, posing a very real threat. There was no telling how powerful his doppelganger was... unless....

The town appeared to have much the same layout as his own Snowdin, which would indicate Sans and his own home was only a short walk. If he was correct, he could observe his doppelganger and deduce the most suited attack. He need not approach the other if the danger proved too great.

\--

Sans brushed his floury oven-mitts off on his blue apron and smiled. The taco shells were toasted, the mince filling was ready. All he needed was to get the guacamole from the fridge and the hot sauce.

He peered out of the window for a moment, where was Papy? He should be home by now...well, he would just have to deal with cold tacos then. Sans frowned, a pout threatening to appear. Papyrus was spending such a lot of times at Miss Muffet’s cafe and often didn’t seem to want to eat. And last night he had even forgotten to read him ‘Hide and Seek Kitty’ before bed as well as missing dinner.

Suddenly feeling less hungry the little skeleton popped the lid on the mince to keep it fresh and stomped towards the sink to get a glass of water. He lifted his head, lip of the glass pressed to his mouth and promptly cried out in shock. Cruel red eyes glared at him through the window and Sans leapt backwards, dropping the glass with a crash. The strange skeleton’s eye glowed and red bones floated in the air and he yipped, running from the kitchen as the projectiles suddenly smashed through the window.

Sans knew he should have run to the front door but he was lost in panic and it was not until he was almost on the upper floor that this fact occurred to him. By then it was too late. He could hear footsteps, swift and menacing, crunching through glass and clacking towards the stairs. He tore into his room and gasped for air, using his magic to drag the chest of drawers in front of the door. A poor barricade. He gulped and froze as the doorknob rattled and then a sharp knock, more of a bang rang through the wood.

“Open this door whelp.” The voice was familiar but the terrifying tone it held was decidedly not.

“N-no, only the Magnificent Sans can access this room!” Sans tried to sound confident, this stranger might be persuaded from their violent ways, people could always do better. 

The drawers were flung aside as the door shattered, splintered by glowing red bone after bone. The skeleton strode in and Sans wasn’t quick enough to dodge the clawed hand as it grabbed him by the blue bandana on his neck and dragged him off his feet.

“What a useless runt, hiding like a coward. Tell me, are you an even more sorry excuse for a Sans?” The tall skeleton chucked darkly and Sans scrabbled at the fingers gripping his scarf. 

“Please-ah!-let go!” The red eyes flashed and the smaller skeleton felt his soul jolt. A hand gripped his thigh bone and he gasped as claws dug in. The lack of strain on his neck left him feeling less breathless and he coughed and gasped. “W-who are you?” He asked, frightened by the pure hatred in the red eyes.

Sans cried out as he was twisted and shoved up against the wall. He shook and shrank back in fear as the larger skeleton’s crooked mouth twisted up into a grin. “Oh I’m sure you're familiar with the name Papyrus, but Master will do for now.”


	2. Danger Mystery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate writing dialogue, I always feel you can tell how much my autism warps my understanding of social interaction.

Sans glanced around, frantically searching for some way out, it was hard to summon his magic when pressed so hard into the wall his spine felt as though it might crack. The strange Other Papyrus was… examining him? Red pupils roving over his battle body, a mixture of confusion, dislike and some unreadable expressions twisting into the jagged features.

Sans decided to take advantage of the taller skeleton’s distraction to summon his magic, blue wisps flickering from one pupil and a matching glow flickering over the bookshelf to his right. He wrenched down a series of books and aimed them at the Other Papyrus with a swift jerk. They made impact; hitting the clavicle, sternum and nasal bone with a series of thumps.

The Other Papyrus dropped him and staggered back, holding his face with one hand and the other arm held up to defend from future attacks. “Aargh! What is the meaning of this?!” Red bones began to appear and Sans straightened from his crouch to summon his own blue attack, blue and red bones slamming into each other until the room was almost filled with purple static.

“Myehehehe! You cannot beat my bone attacks for I am very magnificent.” Sans struck a pose with one hand on his hip and a big grin. He really hoped the taller skeleton would choose not to fight, another Papyrus (even one so angry) would make a great friend and ally. But he knew he would fight the other if continued his violent behaviour, he had to protect Snowdin from any threat, be it human or monster.

Another red bone was flung in his direction and he blocked it swiftly before huffing, eyes glowing bright and blue tendrils flickering around the taller skeleton before turning the Other Papyrus a deep blue. “Hah, you’re blue now, my special attack! If you move you’ll be impaled.” He flung two long, sharpened bones towards the taller skeleton whose pupils widened and he gave a startled growl. Sans had aimed very carefully of course and the bones simply tore through the other’s battle gear, pinning him to the opposite wall.

Sans panted, drops of sweat beading on his skull and sliding down to dampen his scarf. He hadn’t fought so hard in a long, long time. He hoped the bones held as the blue attack wouldn’t stop the other for long. To mask his concern he smiled, hands on his hips and a loud cackle escaping, “Look, I caught you with my famed blue attack!”

\--

Papyrus gaped at the Other Sans in shock. This Sans was by far stronger than his own… unless his brother had been hiding the full extent of his abilities from him. He felt exhausted, spine throbbing from it’s impact with the wall. His limbs seemed sluggish, it had to be this strange ‘blue attack’, and when he attempted to struggle, the bones impaling his shirt actually sent a painful twinge through him, lowering his HP. Papyrus held himself still, glaring warningly as the Other Sans cautiously approached.

“What are you doing here? And why is your name Papyrus?” The little skeleton was frowning, but no true malice entered his expression or voice. 

“Do not presume you may question me, quivering worm. Free me immediately or you will regret it. I have no patience for this charade!” Papyrus clenched his gloved phalanges into fists and his eye twitched. How dare this strange Sans assume that simply pinning him to a wall would coax his cooperation and pliancy.

The other’s face drew in a frown and… and… was that a pout? How did a skeleton pout?! There was something very disconcerting about the softness of the San’s expression and his wide, wide eyes. Innocence. On it’s own it was a disgusting and pitiful concept (it did not last long in his own Underground). When coupled with the surprisingly decent fighting skill, it was unnerving and made him feel conflicted.

“Well… you don’t have to answer my questions Other Papyrus. But I must warn you, my own Papyrus shall be returning shortly and he will be very upset about the kitchen window…” The small skeleton turned to stare at the carnage that remained of the wooden door. “He’s not a violent monster but… he doesn’t like cruelty towards others.” 

“Will he fight me with such weak attacks as well?” He laughed, sneering down at the Other Sans. Internally he felt a small voice venture concern, what if the Other Papyrus was as strong… if not stronger than this Sans? He had been taken off guard by this small monster… his doppleganger might be just as strong as himself. Just as ruthless and as cunning. This world appeared less treacherous than his own, but then he had thus far only met two small children and this odd Sans.

“Well, if he has to I suppose. But honestly, all this fighting seems a little unnecessary. I believe you are much better than that! You seem like someone who works very hard.” The Sans nodded vigorously, his frown twitching up into a smile. 

Papyrus felt a strange flutter through his soul at the sight and he swallowed, throat clicking. “Do not try to curry my favour with false praises. I have a great deal of experience with mind games runt, I was schooled by King Asgore himself.” He straightened his back, pushing back the sudden images of King Asgore’s torturous training sessions. He was a warrior, he had learned to withstand torture and great cruelty, memories of years long past should not assault him whenever he thought of the King.

The Other Sans shifted as though uncomfortable before his eyes suddenly lit up in curiosity, “King Asgore? You mean Queen Toriel isn’t the ruler of your home?! Wowee! That is so different!” The small skeleton was almost bouncing in place, hands fiddling with his scarf.

“The King and Queen rule equally, where is your King? Was he slain in battle?” Papyrus blinked in surprise, the unstable rule of this world might prove useful… he could not deny he had longed for a higher status with more power. ‘King Papyrus…’ he smirked to himself at the thought, it was rather appealing.

The little Sans appeared aghast, “oh no! His Highness didn’t agree with the Queen’s decision to take seven human children’s souls to release our kind from the Barrier. Now he lives in the Ruins and she rules from the Castle.” 

Papyrus listened intently, fascinated. This world was different, whereas his King and Queen had both declared all Fallen Humans to be caught and harvested for their souls, in this universe they had apparently disagreed on the cause. Was the Queen Toriel of this world more ruthless than the King? And how many souls had this world accrued? Not enough to free their kind apparently. “Just how many souls has your Maje-Queen Toriel acquired? Not the full seven I presume, given your,” he glanced about the room with a raised brow, “poor choice of residence.”

The little skeleton huffed, pouting again and Papyrus felt that same strange flutter at the sight and stifled the thoughts that whispered ‘cute’, ‘adorable’. “I’ll have you know that I, the Magnificent Sans, have one of the best houses in Snowdin! You just cannot appreciate it’s greatness!” The Other Sans placed his fisted knuckles at his waist and chuckled, mouth twisting into a wide grin.

\--

Papyrus gave a lazy stretch as he strolled through Snowdin’s main street. Muffet’s had been quiet today, apparently Alphy’s had been giving a training session to the guards near her house in Waterfall. He noticed the two little children who tended to play in this part of the town and waved but they looked suddenly terrified and backed away from him. He frowned in confusion… that was odd. He looked behind him but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

He brushed it off with a shake of his head and made his way Sans and his own house, ignoring the two mailboxes. His was generally empty anyway, except for the monthly rent bill. The tall skeleton fumbled in his pocket for his key and opened the door. All he wanted to do was eat his brother’s tacos and settle for a nap on the couch.. perhaps see if there was a new bottle of honey in the kitche- what under ground?! There was glass all over the kitchen floor.

The low sound of talking from upstairs registered, his brother’s overzealous tones mixed with… a voice that was strange but held a familiar twang, as though he had heard it before. Perhaps his brother had met a new friend whilst patrolling? But why was the kitchen window broken? Sans had jumped through a window or two (he disliked confrontations) but leaving the glass all over would be a “terrible hazard Papy, someone could lose a foot or paw!”

Papyrus moved to the stairs and froze. Sans door was gone. A broken shard of wood hung from the upper hinge but the rest was missing. He ran up the stairs, two at a time.  
He flung himself into the room and just barely jerked to a stop, arms pinwheeling to keep balance as he was faced with a bizarre and very disconcerting scene.

“Papy! I was wondering where you were! We have a… visitor?” Sans appeared unharmed and Papyrus allowed himself a sigh of relief. The blue bones pinning the strange skeleton to the wall like some specimen of butterfly told of violence however and Papyrus moved to stand slightly in front of his smaller brother.

“I don’t know who you are pal, but if you hurt my brother you are gonna have a bad time.” His hands twitched into fists at his sides and he felt his left eye flare up with orange magic. 

The strange skeleton laughed, a short, unpleasant bark. “Is this the Papyrus of this universe?! How droll, do you truly dress for Guard duty in such shoddy armour? Undyne must struggle to follow your orders when you give them in that.”

Papyrus blinked, straightening in surprise. Who was this monster? “I’m not.. a guard. And why would I give the Royal Scientist orders?” He then processed the entire paragraph the other had given. ‘Papyrus of this universe’. This monster knew of the machine, possibly of the resets and timelines. Multiverses had only been a theory he and Gaster had pondered on. The machine hadn’t worked…”Who are you and how did you get to this universe?! Did you also build a multiverse machine with the Scientist Gaster? Why have you come here?”

Papyrus ignored Sans questioning look, confusion bright in the wide cyan pupils. The stranger seemed taken aback, face twisting uncomfortably as though unable to truly school his features into the impassive look he desired. Papyrus had mastered the unreadable expression so many resets ago he sometimes forgot to emote and worried his brother.

“I am the Great Papyrus, head of the Royal Guard and feared by all of Snowdin, Waterfall and the rest of my world. I have no intention of giving you information, you slovenly fool.” The Other Papyrus was pretty cocky for a guy impaled in a bedroom wall and glowing a slowly-fading blue, but he seemed oddly clueless. He actually reminded him of his brother, what with the overconfidence and third-person introduction. Would his brother be like this if he was an evil dick? 

“Well if you’re going to be a wet blanket we might as well leave you hanging up to dry.” Papyrus flicked his hand, summoning a series of sharpened bones, much like his brothers’. He flung them towards his doppleganger to completely immobilise the skeleton, pinning arms, legs and even through the red cape. The bones should last a fair few hours at least, given him enough time to confer with Sans and make a plan.

He dragged his brother out of the room and ignored both his bewildered questioning and the loud cursing of the impaled Papyrus. He needed to think. If this version was violent, did it reflect the nature of the other’s universe and did the monsters have access to the machine and their own world?


	3. Unnecessary Tension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING: ******This chapter contains sexual content, neither party realise this and there is some serious dubious consent.
> 
>  
> 
> \- Fluffy Fluff (http://frickfishstick.tumblr.com/)

The bones wouldn’t budge. The ‘blue attack’ had almost completely faded, but his HP had been steadily lowered as he had struggled. It was hard to summon his magic and they just weren’t powerful enough with his lowered HP, some of his bone attacks had chipped those impaling him but the most recent were fading in and out and phasing through.

He was exhausted, beads of sweat rolling from scarred cranium down to his jaw and neck vertebrae. He was unsure how long he had been hanging from the wall, it felt like a fair few hours. He had listened to the brothers moving about the house; the telltale sound of clinking glass where the kitchen must be, the Other Sans complaining about not being able to go in his bedroom and he tried straining his ‘ears’ but his own doppelganger's voice was a low rumble and he couldn’t hear the words. 

Papyrus allowed a small groan of pain and frustration to escape, head falling back against the wall causing a ripple of agony to slice across his shoulder blades and neck. His body was a mixture of unpleasantness; aches, a sense of hunger and thirst, exhaustion leaving an annoying twitch in his left eye and a myriad of weak emotions flittering through his mind. He refused to acknowledge them, fear, concern, desperation, a rising sense of dread and claustrophobia as the room seemed to narrow and warp as his eyes blurred. His HP was becoming much too low… it had not been this low in years. Not since he was an adolescent and King Asgore had almost torn him to pieces during his initiation into the guard.

His body began to shake, bones rattling. Pain hit him from every bone pinning him and he felt his vision fuzz, the room spinning. Papyrus tried to calm his breathing and the throbbing of his soul which came faster and faster and fast-

\--

“-okay? Oh my gosh Papyrus, his HP is really low…”

Papyrus groaned, eyes cracking open to see the Other Sans leant over him. Had he been in a fit state he would have leapt up and tackled the other. As it was his body refused to move, complete agony hitting him as his awareness returned. He had 3 HP… if they chose they could kill him. Papyrus tried to move, to summon a magical defence. His fingers managed to twitch and even that hurt. He stifled a groan and clenched his eyes shut, pained breath slipping past his clenched teeth.

Sort warmth pressed to his cheek, his eyes flying open in startlement. A blue gloved hand was cupping his jaw, a thumb trailing gently below his eye socket. The Other San’s face was filled with concern. “Are you alright? You fell off the wall, the bones couldn’t take all your weight.” 

Papyrus felt heat flood his face inexplicably and chalked it up to his weakened state. The Other Sans had leaned forwards and his blue pupils were wide and earnest and bizarrely contrite. The thumb rubbed a soft circle under his eye and he was torn between flinching and leaning into the touch. “Nn-yeh?” He tried to make his jaw and mouth cooperate, “what?” He couldn’t form a simple sentence, his body sluggish and desperate to enter the comfort of unconsciousness again.

His doppelganger suddenly spoke up from somewhere be beyond his field of vision. “His HPs too low bro, he’s probably only half awake. I don’t trust the guy but we need to increase his HP before we have a pile of fresh dust on our hands.” 

The Other Sans let out a choked noise, turning to his brother in concern. His stroking fingers slid down to brush Papyrus’ neck. The soft touch ignited an odd tingle in the vertebrae and the taller skeleton felt the heat in his face deepen, magic trying to flare through his body but stuttering and wisping out before it could really grip him. 

The Other Sans began questioning his brother but Papyrus couldn’t follow him, the haziness of his mind increasing as those fingers continued their soft movements. It felt pleasant, cutting through the aching pain with more queer tingles. His soul jolted behind his ribs, pulsing in a manner that worried him. He shuddered and the tingles mixed with pain and his mind fuzzed, a wave of dizzy pressure flitting from one side of his cranium to the other.

“I- I could warm up the leftover tacos? But do you think he can eat it in this state? He can barely move Papy.” The Other Sans’s voice was loud but oddly soothing, similar to his brother’s but filled with bright energy instead of a slow drawl. Sans hadn’t called him any nicknames since he had reached adolescence. He couldn’t let Undyne and the guard-dogs-in-training hear him be called anything so sentimental and weak. 

Sometimes he rather missed his brother’s head pats and heavy arm around his shoulders when he was young and sickly and… and the sentiment would have gotten them both killed. He’d had to toughen up, Sans had such a low HP and so many monsters seemed to want to… do things to him. Sans never answered his questions or orders on what they wanted or what they did but he sometimes came home with injuries and torn clothes. Joining the Guard had ensured there was some protection from the King and his status had become rather infamous. No monsters approached him for fear and most left Sans alone.

He was jolted from his thoughts as the hypnotic stroking ceased and two larger hands gripped his sides, tugging him into a slumped-but sitting position. He would have struggled but his limbs just wouldn’t cooperate, flopping to his sides. His head fell back against the chest supporting him. The Other Papyrus frowned down at him and the proximity coupled with his weakened state sent a jolt of fear through him. “Don’t think he can move his mouth bro. Gonna have to do this the more unorthodox way: energy transfer." His doppelganger began to peel off his hooded sweater, revealing an identical spine and the bottom two ribs.

"W-wait... Papyrus you only have 1HP you can't spare any of your magic! I won't be left with two skeleton patients on my hands!" The Sans had thrown out a hand to still his brother. His cheeks flushed blue and he glanced down at Papyrus before looking away quickly. "I'll do it."

The Other Papyrus seemed taken aback "bro, you haven't done this before. It's pretty intimate and sometimes it leaves a mark."

The Sans shrugged, head lifting determinedly. "It's my duty Papy, I have enough magic and he needs it."

Papyrus felt completely bewildered. What were they talking about? He watched as his brother's twin sat back, face scrunched in flushed nervousness before he hooked his small phalanges into the bottom of his shirt and pulled the fabric up.

Papyrus' eyes widened and he looked away, cheeks burning. How-how lewd! The tall skeleton heard shifting and suddenly the Sans was much too close. Almost sitting on his thighs. What in Underground was he doing? He growled and jerked as those small fingers gripped his own shirt and exposed him. "What?! Halt! R-release me!"

The Other Sans at least appeared ashamed but his phalanges moved to-to "Nngh!" They touched his soul, coaxing it beyond his ribs. He couldn't fight them... they were going to crush it. "Nyeh no!"

The small skeleton pressed forwards unexpectedly and Papyrus writhed and gasped. The buzzing hum of another soul vibrated across his sternum before there was a powerful jolt as something slid against his very soul. It was so intense it registered as pain before he began to process the sensation. Hot, staticy, tingling: magic beginning to trickle into his soul.

\--

Sans whimpered, the tug as the Other Papyrus' soul latched onto his own fully overwhelming. It felt strange and then... good? He wasn't sure because it was so intense but his soul shuddered and a tingling heat flickered from his soul to his 'stomach'.

"Uhn, I-is it working Papy?" His hands had risen to grip the Other Papyrus' shoulders and there was a strange budding of heat settling in his pelvis. Thoughts sluggishly trickled into his mind and they were strange and alien and not his own. Fear, confusion, a sense of invasion and heat. He gasped and had to hold his hips still, they wanted to shift against his will. The Other Papyrus shook and jerked in his grip and he felt his own HP drop quite a bit.

A hand pressed his shoulder backwards, loosening the connection between their souls and the small skeleton drew backwards with a shivering sigh. His older brother was flushed a deep orange, staring pointedly at the wall and Sans felt his own embarrassment deepen, shoving down the hem of his shirt to cover his tingling soul.

The Other Papyrus appeared lost in a daze and a throb of heat rushed through him as he took in the taller skeleton. The flush had deepened from yellow to dark orange and a tiny line of drool ran from the corner of the jagged mouth. Sans choked back a whimper, his mouth becoming oddly dry.

“That’s ehrhem… raised his HP bro. He needs to rest though, you too. I’ll keep watch while you sleep. Can you help me get him up to sleep and I’ll stay by him.”

“Not my ship bed Papy! Only I get to captain the ship!” It was a silly thing to say but his thoughts were rather muddled and besides, the idea of this scary skeleton stretched out on his bed was… it was… Sans worried the fabric of his scarf. His soul throbbed and the heat still licked up his bones, it was a little distracting and worrisome.

Papyrus laughed, “of course not bro, mine. I’ve got a lock on my door anyway and yours is more of a door-away.”


	4. Small Shock

Papyrus struggled to pull his still-practically-comatose doppelganger down the hall to his bedroom. He feels uncomfortable for a variety of reasons, the first and foremost that he'd allowed his brother to undertake the energy transfer.

It had been necessary, the Other Papyrus might not have made it to the hospital, but soul-transfer was complicated. It was an intimate procedure and bordered on sexual. Anything involving souls tended to be. He'd wanted to protest but he knew Sans would dismiss it and do it regardless. The little skeleton was almost too kind and forgiving.

Papyrus didn't think he'd have been all that willing if the skeleton had attacked him. And if Sans had actually been harmed…

He kicked open his door and shoved his doppelganger on the bed. The other skeleton groaned, curling in on himself on the bare mattress.

"Why did you come through the machine? What are you planning?" Papyrus strolled forwards with his hands in his pockets, the casual slouch contrasting his glare. He wouldn't hurt the guy, but he wanted answers. If there was an ambush/attack waiting on the other side of the portal, he couldn't waste any time.

"Nngheh," his double rolled over onto his stomach, trying to lift himself. The magic hadn't filtered through yet and his arms gave out, slamming his chin into the fabric. "I don't intend to answer any of your questions whelp." The glaring red pupils shone with hate.

Papyrus clicked his fingers and focused his magic. A skull began to materialise in the air just over his left shoulder. The blaster opened its mouth, orange static fuzzing between its fangs. "I only spared you to appease my brother. You don't belong here and I don't want you to cause another reset. There should never be two Papyruses in one universe."

His doppelganger attempted to rise again, "and what if we are tied by some force and you end up executing yourself?" Though he tried to mask it, fear was bright in his eyes.

Papyrus blinked slowly, irritation lacing his voice as he answered, “Buddy, how many times do you think I’ve tried offing myself? I’ll just wake up to birds singing, flowers blooming and another fucking reset.” He stood over the bed and allowed his blaster to hover over him, illuminating his double in orange.

The other skeleton opened his mouth to respond before suddenly closing it, a frown of confusion softening the glare. “Reset? What is a reset?” 

Papyrus started, jaw dropping in shock. "Your universe doesn't reset? I just assumed... fuck. Maybe this universe is the only one with the anomaly..."

The Other Papyrus blinked, expression warring between bewilderment and irritation. "What is a reset? I have heard Sans mumbling nonsense about resets and anomalies in his sleep. Now, answer me!"

Papyrus debated on what to do. His Sans knew nothing of the resets and he had wavered over his decision to withhold that information. His younger brother was a sphere of perpetual positivity and Papyrus couldn't bear to sully that pure happiness with the knowledge of just how many times the Underground had been left in ruined tatters and San's blue scarf a dusty rag pressed close to stifle his sobs.

"This universe is trapped in a time loop. There is a set point where time returns after a series of circumstances occur, often ending in my death, or the death of the human anomaly. The resets are continuous, I lost count years ago. Only two beings in this universe are aware of them, including myself." A weight lifted from his chest at the admission, so suddenly he almost felt winded. "Your Sans has mentioned resets? Maybe our universes share that reality as well."

His doppelganger was silent for a long moment, red pupils wide before the sockets narrowed in concentration. "I have no memory of time resetting and Sans is a drunkard... therefore you have no proof."

Papyrus curled his phalanges into fists, anger licking through his 'gut'. "You want proof you fuck?" He gripped the hem of his hoodie and jerked it upwards, exposing the scars; crescents from bottom left rib to the right collarbone, varying in length and depth. They were old, the telltale cracks and chips in the bone belying their age."Take a long look, 1hp and a knife through my soul, it doesn't take a genius."

The other skeleton seemed visibly taken aback by the sight, arms shaking as he attempted to rise once more. “Why the same mark…. Who gave you this?” The jagged teeth glinted in the bedroom light as the mouth hung open in surprise. 

Papyrus gave a dry chuckle, feeling the old wound twinge as images of a giggling dark-haired child and the flash of a knife assaulted him. “A human child. They appeared one day from the Ruins. The first time they seemed harmless, simply an innocent child. Then one reset they came from the King’s home covered in his dust and they continued their massacre through the Underground.”

“How did you stop them?” The other skeleton’s voice had quietened, dropping to a low hiss. 

Papyrus let his hoodie drop back to cover the old wounds. “I killed them.” he looked away, back towards the bedroom doorway. “Again and again,” he turned, a grim smile tight on his face, “ _and again_.” He stalked towards the bed and gripped his doppelganger's shirt. “Don’t think I won’t hesitate to kill you if you harm my brother. I can’t stand to watch him die again.”

His double flailed, gripping him with gloved claws. “I desire to return to my universe. You can keep your filthy sentiment. Releash me!” The red pupils were wide with fear and hate, weakened legs jerking.

Papyrus released the other and stepped back from the bed. “I feel sorry for your bro, having a dick like you for a brother.” He shook his head in disgust, “dunno if we can return you, but Sans’ll be ticked off if I don’t try. You can sleep here tonight, but if you try anything I’m dusting your sorry ass.” He snorted and turned, fingers diving into his hoodie pouch. He’d stay up, let San’s sleep and keep an ear out for his double, there was always something on TV.


	5. Chill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I like this chapter, if it seems awful please let me know

Sans awoke with a start, snorting and shuddering in a panic. How long had he been asleep, what time was it? Was that Papyrus knocking on the door? His eyes ached and stared blearily about in the darkness, no that tapping was a branch on the window, not the booming thumps of his brother at the door. As he pushed himself up onto his elbows, a string of drool leeching from his jaw to the grubby mattress, he became aware of just how quiet the house was. Usually he awoke either to the sounds of Papyrus stomping around the house or his determined knocks on his bedroom door. On bad days when he couldn’t muster a single ounce of energy to leave his bed, Papyrus would come in, snorting in disgust at the mess, before grabbing him by the shoulders or sides and dragging him from the mattress.

But… he looks at the clock, 23.06 pm, tonight the house is eerily silent. Papyrus wouldn’t have let him sleep the entire day. And Papyrus snores, so the taller skeleton isn’t sleeping. Perhaps he is out on patrol? But it is late... his brother is punctual to a fault and follows a strict schedule; awake at 5am, bed by 20.45pm, he deviates very little. 

Sans groans, his head aching from a contradictory blend of extended exhaustion and too much sleep. He presses a sneakered foot to the floor (why the hell had he fallen asleep with his shoes on?) and stretches cat-like, spine giving a rather satisfying pop. With a rather awkward jerk, he drags himself upright, mouth wide as he yawns. 

Sans trudges blindly towards the doorway, rubbing his eye sockets with the back of his metacarpals. The landing is as dark as his room, the stairs barely invisible in the gloom. “B-Boss?” his call is tentative, he’s afraid. There isn’t a response.

His sneakers shuffle along the landing, one hand trailing along the wall (probably leaving mustard smudges Boss would kick his ass for later) the other snug in his hoodie pocket. He’s concerned, no matter the reset Papyrus is predictable but this is weird and Sans isn’t sure what actions to take. 

“Boss?” he knocks. He doesn’t want to, doesn’t want to arouse his brother’s ire. The house stays silent. “Papy-rus?!” It’s been awhile since he’s said his brother’s name and the word warps with almost-fear halfway out of his mouth. His phalanges spasm nervously on the doorknob before he takes a deep breath and pushes the door open. He flicks on the light.

Empty. Sparse and neat and empty. He hasn’t been in his brother’s room in years. Not since that time, a fair few resets ago, when his brother had actually been ill. Not that the stupid idiot had admitted his ailment, he’d tried to report for patrol. Sans had only just managed to catch him with his magic when he’d collapsed on his way to the door. The fever had lasted nearly three days and Sans had feared he wouldn’t make it.

Papyrus had seemed so much smaller, delirious and sweating. Like a horrible echo of when he’d been a child and been lost in one of his night terrors. Sans had held his hands and let him lash out out in fear, leaving harsh scratches across his skull. He loved his brother, for whatever crazy reason and even though Papyrus probably hated him and barely tolerated him, Sans could cope with that.

A flash of light through the window, reflecting on the windowsill, distracts him from his thoughts. He approaches the glass and he’s not prepared for what he sees. The lab should be empty, it should be dark and lifeless like it has been for years. Sans can’t bear to enter the place, not since Gaster… well, those nightmares are almost pleasant in comparison to those of the King and of the resets where Papyrus is slaughtered. He still doesn’t like to remember his father or their work together. That’s a time long past. 

Why is there light flashing through the lab window. Who would… Papyrus. His brother had shown interest in the ‘secret building’, but he hadn’t directly asked Sans to allow him entry. There were still some boundaries as an older brother that he upheld. Why the fuck did Papyrus feel the need to nose his way into everything, even Sans wasn’t sure exactly what that machine was supposed to do. It had been Gaster’s invention afterall. 

He growled, fingers curling into fists as he teleported to the lab door. Painful twinges assaulted his ‘gut’; fear, concern, exasperation and anger. He flung open the door to give Papyrus a piece of his mind. The big idiot was- not there. Sans blinked at the swirling sphere in the middle of the room, flickering over the tiled walls. The image of snow and fir trees was dark, much like the night outside the lab. Had Papyrus teleported to another part of Snowdin? Snow had begun to fall through the sphere and Sans felt his concern grow. Snowstorms were dangerous, Papyrus had gotten lost in one as a child and almost frozen to death.

Well, he wasn’t going to risk the prick making a repeat and probably fatal performance of that awful night. Sans gripped the insides of his hoodie pockets and stepped into the portal.

\--

Sans wriggled under his blanket, tossing and turning fretfully on his plane bed. He couldn’t sleep. It had been an hour or so since the loud angry voices had sounded from his brother’s room and then the familiar lazy footfalls of his brother descending the stairs. He’d been so perturbed by the shouting from down the hall but it hadn’t sounded like fighting. 

He felt oddly exposed with the door gone and the tv wasn’t muffled like it usually was. Not that Nappstablook TV played much loud music at this late hour but it was still jarring. Sans grumbled, throwing off the fluffy blanket and sitting up. 

His bunny slippers were soft and squeaked a little as he crept onto the landing. He leant over the bannister to peep at Papyrus on the couch. His brother was snoring, a honey bottle clenched in his hand and a sticky trail down his chin. Sans rolled his eyes and made a gagging sound, his brother was so gross with his favourite drink. 

He sneaked along, treading quietly towards his brother’s door. Papyrus could be unpredictable in his sleep. Sometimes he was complete deadweight and even loud noises didn’t make him stir (Sans suspected that many of the times he shouted to wake him Papy was actually awake and feigning sleep simply to be annoying and stubborn). Then at other times his sleep was light and it took very little indeed to wake him (his brother seemed uncannily aware of when he was having a nightmare or in trouble).

He knocked on the door. He expected the Other Papyrus to be asleep at this late hour so he was surprised when a voice croaked out “What?”

Sans bit one of his phalanges nervously before pushing the door open. It creaked, Papy never did oil the hinges like he said he would, and the little skeleton peeked inside. “Hi! Sorry to bother you… I was wondering if you needed anything?” 

The Other Papyrus appeared exhausted, sitting up on the mattress with his spine pressed to the wall. He had removed his gloves and was inspecting the bones below. Sans felt a little fearful jump in his soul as he realised the other skeleton’s phalanges really were clawed, the points curving into sharpened tips that he reckoned could leave some vicious marks. The Papyrus looked up and his red pupils fixed him with an unreadable stare “Why are you awake at this late hour?”

Sans slipped into the room, fingers worrying the fabric of his pajama sleeves. “Well… I couldn’t sleep. I heard shouting earlier and I was a little worried that you and my brother had fought…”

The other gave a dry chuckle that made Sans stomach flip oddly. “I assure you that we did not, although I believe your brother may have desired such a response from me. He seemed keen to kill me in cold blood.” The Papyrus grinned, a set of claws tapping his knee.

Sans was distracted by the movement for a second, watching the clawed tips snag at black fabric. This Papyrus’ clothes were so very different than his brother’s. Papy typically wore baggy clothes that swamped his thin frame. The only exposed parts being his tibia and fibula above his sneakers, his skull, and sometimes his hands when they weren’t buried in hoodie pockets.

In contrast, this Papyrus’ clothes were form-fitting. The chestplate was armoured but his spine and the upper parts of his pelvis were oddly exposed, leading to a skull belt and… Sans flushed, averting his eyes rather quickly. The black trousers were very tight, hugging his hips and outlining each bone clearly. He blinked and met the other’s stare, the words finally registering and sending a bolt of anger through him. “Papy would never! I’m sorry he hurt you but that is no reason to make such false allegations against him!”

Sans wasn’t prepared for the unbridled laughter that rang out from the taller skeleton, the loud sound actually caused him to jump. The claws ceased their drumming and the other stood, body wavering almost imperceptibly. Sans had to stop himself from stepping backwards as the other Papyrus approached him and he was reminded again just how tall he was in comparison, especially as he lacked the bad posture Papy held.

“In my experience, naivety and innocence are traits that lead to manipulation, enslavement or death. I would generally spurn any monster who embodies such a useless character but you have proven yourself a capable warrior in battle and this I can respect. Therefore I will give you some sound advice, lest your gullibility lead to your end. Your brother is capable of murder, perhaps as much as I myself am.” The other Papyrus’ hand reached out and if Sans had not been frozen, lost in the other’s hushed words, he would have flinched back. 

As it was he only trembled as the claws touched his chin, his soul a whirl with nervous energy. “B-But… his LV and EXP levels are at zero” he finds himself stuttering out, shuddering as those fingers slide to the side of his skull. Coupled with the intensity of the red pupils, the touch has him almost gasping, a fluttering of tingling nerves in his ‘gut’.

The other Papyrus smiles, “So are my own Sans’, but now I am doubting they truly reflect his actual abilities.” His thumb trails a gentle curve from Sans’ cheek to the corner of his mouth and suddenly Sans is afraid. 

He jerks backwards, “I-It’s very late and I have patrol tomorrow so I should be asleep! Good night!” And he flees, running jerkily from the room, bumping his shoulder on the door. He ignores the flare of pain and doesn’t stop until he’s leap into his plane bed and burrowed under the covers. He pants and listens, afraid he’ll hear footsteps, but there isn’t a sound. 

Sans blinks wide eyes, his body awash with nervous twitches. His skull still tingles where the other’s fingers had been and the rest of him flushes hot and cold. He clenches the blankets in his phalanges and gasps into his pillow. He’s afraid, his soul pulsing with nervous excitement and he thinks he’ll never sleep. But his eyes blur and the pillow is warm and soft and-

\--

Papyrus blinks, arm still outstretched mid-air as he watches the little skeleton bolt from the room. His claws twitch, bereft of the Sans’ warmth and he jerks his arm back, boot heel twisting on the carpet as he turns. That exchange had ended rather abruptly and he is left feeling completely bewildered. He had been aiming for intimidation but his hands had had their own ideas, reaching for his brother’s doppelganger almost unconsciously.

He and Sans didn’t touch very often. Papyrus would drag him out of bed or out of Grillby’s when his brother was too far gone to walk. And they both hit each other when angry, Papyrus more often than Sans, backhanding him for backtalk or general disrespect. This Sans was so… soft. His pupils so wide, his clothing bright and cheerful and he radiated such positivity… he wouldn’t survive long in his own universe, even with his fighting skills.

Papyrus feels a wave of exhaustion hit him. He’s been trying to ignore it, trying to ignore the dip in his energy levels and the painful throb in his skull. But the headache is spreading, leeching into one of his eye sockets and making his eye twitch. He doesn’t want to sleep, doesn’t want to leave himself open for further attacks. Papyrus presses a palm to the mattress. The room is hideously grimy, much like his own Sans’ and the mattress is bare. He suppresses a gag of disgust and picks up a bundled sheet from the floor. It seems relatively clean and he spreads it over the bed. It would have to suffice. At least this bed lacks the mustard stains his brother’s sports. 

The television drones on downstairs as he shifts on the mattress, resisting the urge to curl up to protect his spine and soul. He hasn’t slept in that position since his adolescence, since Sans had said he was too old, and too gangly, to share the older skeleton’s bed. The mattress is softer than his own at home, despite it’s poor condition and he feels the heavy pull of sleep, his aching bones melting into the warmth as darkness descends.


	6. Fallen Down

Sans awoke at 5:30am sharp. Despite his body and fuzzy mind urging him to snuggle back into the warmth and continue to dream, he sat up and stretched. The clock on the wall ticks in the morning quiet and the small skeleton yawned, flipping his blanket to the side.

He jumped from his ship bed and began his morning routine; shake the creases from his blanket and make the bed, do a short series of stretches that end with a cartwheel to the window in order to open the curtains. He hopped from one foot to the other, surveying the area he could see from the window. 

Snowdin was quiet in the early hours of the day. Only Royal Guards tended to wake up at this time, and the Innkeeper, who he wasn't sure actually slept. They always seemed to be at the desk no matter the time of day or night. Pondering this puzzling thought he turns towards the door. Time to get dressed into his battle body and make breakfa-aAH

"Ah, I see you also wake at this respectable hour. Unlike my own brother who would gladly sleep the day away." The other Papyrus leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed across his chest, a small smirk twitching at his jagged teeth.

Sans felt his soul plunge into his stomach briefly, a mixture of nerves rumbling there. He swallowed them down and forced his mouth into a welcoming smile. "Of course, how else can I get all my morning training done before breakfast?"

Curiosity rose within him at the mention of his doppelganger. What was the other Sans like? Was he ill-tempered like this Papyrus? He obviously had more in common with his own brother if he was also lazy. 

The other skeleton’s smirk grew. “Ah, now that is a much more appropriate attitude for a Sans, your brother has trained you well.” His red pupils flickered from Sans’ face down his pajamas and Sans felt his face flush.

“Well, Papy taught me a lot when we were baby bones but he’s not really as motivated nowadays. I aspire to be a very popular guardsman, with even more friends than I, the amazing Sans, now have! Papyrus likes to sleep and laze around messily so I take care of most things.” He grinned proudly. Even if Papyrus fought his ‘mother hen’ nagging, he always said he admired how dedicated and busy Sans was. And Alphys said she hadn’t met anyone as dedicated to the Royal Guard as herself before which always made his soul swell with pride.

The other Papyrus straightened, arms sliding behind his back, exposing his chest confidently. “Nyeh, I see. So you are not the untrained lazy version in this universe. Perhaps the universes differ so greatly that our personalities and traits are switched. Are you the elder brother here as well?”

Sans blinked before a surprised laugh escaped in a bark “Mweh heh, no! Papyrus is my big brother… which is why it annoys me when he’s so lazy… leaving his socks around….” he shook his head with a pout, “why, is-” his eyes widened in amazement, “you are the little brother?! But you seem so accomplished and experienced. I wouldn’t have imagined it!”

The taller skeleton scowled, but Sans saw a red flush flash across his cheekbones. “You presume greatly whelp. I am feared throughout my world. My worthless brother owes me his life, several times over.” The angry growl trailed off, turning into a mutter towards the end and the taller skeleton turned on his heel.

Sans spluttered, feeling a little offended. He frowned, deciding to let the other Papyrus alone, sorting through his clothes for a clean shirt and pair of trousers. He had just finished arranging them on his bed with his battle armour and ever-present neckerchief when he remembered the open door. Sans twisted, ready to shut the door when he saw the wreck of the door and bashed doorframe. Oh… perhaps he could use the bathroom… when he reached the doorway he found that the bathroom’s was shut. Ah, the Other Papyrus must be in there. Well, at least no one would be walking in on him then.

He stripped off his pajama shirt and folded it carefully, setting it down on the back of the chair. The small skeleton thought about what he needed to do. Prepare breakfast, clean, call Alphys and see if she was hosting a training session today and then he would buy groceries. He didn’t mind Papyrus buying pastries and cakes from Muffets’, but eating such sugary foods everyday just wasn’t healthy!

\--

Papyrus hissed with irritation, tearing off one glove with his teeth whilst wrenching the tap on. The bathroom was strikingly different to their own in his world. His own bathroom was grey, the tiles cracked but clean. They had a rather ancient bath but in this universe a shower lay beyond a cheerful curtain. This bathroom was yellow, a garishly bright shade that added to his headache. 

As the sink filled with water he removed his second glove and flexed his claws. The other Sans was strange. His openness, his childish curiosity: they screamed out to him, to manipulate, to tear that innocence right out of his soul. But he couldn’t. There was a niggling thought, a whispered suggestion in the back of his mind. This little skeleton represented himself, if his world lacked it’s ruthless nature. If Sans had not been a weakling and had protected them both. Could they have ended up like this odd world? 

It was a pointless idea. Pondering on the ‘what ifs’ of the universes would hardly alter their fates or change their histories. And besides, it was high time the brothers of this world were hit with the harsh realities of violence and cruelty. It was only a matter of time before someone more volatile made their way into this world and wreaked havoc. 

The sink was so pristine, he wasn’t sure if he missed the cracks and the leaky left tap or if it was preferable. His thoughts turned to his own Sans. A fair few of the cracks were from when he’d dragged his brother home, drunk and mumbling and holding him over the basin, washing the sweat and drool off his face. Waking him up from comatose states with freezing washcloths or urging him into the bath after he’d vomited red ecto slime down himself.

Papyrus hated the helplessness and fear he felt when Sans was drunk. His older brother was weak at the best of times. He was especially vulnerable when he was intoxicated. That wretched Bartender Grillby seemed to relish feeding his brother liquor until he was a muttering, stumbling mess. And sometimes when Sans drunkenly stumbled home,so, so late; his clothes were torn. And he never admitted why his body was littered with new cracks and scratches and wounds or why he was limping.

Papyrus wasn’t sure he wanted to know why his brother came home in tatters, but hushed whispers rumoured how popular Sans was as a… target. Papyrus did not like to admit his own naivety, but he wasn’t exactly sure what Sans was targeted for. If monsters desired Sans’ death then they were failing spectacularly

The cupboard to the right of the sink was at least the same, full of neatly folded towels and washcloths. Stacks of orange and blues filled the shelves and he chose the closest washcloth. He felt unpleasantly grubby and would have prefered a shower. But leaving himself so exposed and vulnerable to these strangers would be foolish, not to mention him lacking a change of clothing would make cleansing his bones a lost cause. 

A simple wash in the sink would have to do. The cool water felt good on his bones, removing all traces of sweat and grime and leaving gleaming white. He heaved a sigh as he wrung the water from the cloth and turned to leave the room. Before the other Sans had awoken he had tried to escape the house but had found it heavily sealed and the other Papyrus had given an amused chuckle, leaving him to stomp back up the stairs in a huff as his doppelganger rolled back over to sleep.

It had infuriated him. Perhaps he could convince the more child-like version of his brother to allow him freedom. The Sans had proven less susceptible to his manipulative manner than he had expected but there was time. And if he couldn’t be persuaded… well he could be used as leverage against his double.

A cruel grin tugging at his jagged mouth he reached the doorframe of the other Sans’ room. Papyrus was about to speak when the words froze on his tongue.

Exposed bones shone in the light, a bright soul twinkling teasingly from within the ribcage. The shorter skeleton was stretching upwards and Papyrus watched the spine flex, hands shaking as his eyes were drawn downwards, sliding to the ilium peeking above the patterned pajama bottoms. The other Sans’ hands sliding into the waistband’s sides and Papyrus trembled, bolts of hot and cold waves flicking through him. This was… inappropriate and unbecoming of the Captain of the Royal Guard.

He bit down on a choked noise, backing away from the doorway towards the landing. It felt like he couldn’t look away as the material began to slide dow-

Papyrus covered his eyes with a shudder and jerked away, back pressed to the wall just beyond the door frame. Images of the shorter skeleton had him flushing and he shook his head. Ridiculous… what in the Underground was wrong with him?! He took a deep breath and clenched his fists, hurrying back down the hallway towards the stairs. He would wait until the other was decent. 

A small part of him demanded he return to the landing, to watch more of those bones being displayed like a dish on a platter but he bit it down, face a flush and body a shudder. He snarled as he forced the thought away, vile, lewd and unwanted, such thoughts were unpleasant and distracting. He had never felt anything like it before and he never intended to again.


	7. Heartache

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this has taken me like 3 months.  
> There's more on the way, i just need to plan it out a bit.

Papyrus awoke, with a rather unbecoming snort and shudder, to the aroma of frying mincemeat. He breathed in the smell and as he shifted a twinge of pain erupted along the back of his neck. Damn, the couch was a bitch to sleep on, the lumpy thing barely long enough to fit his lanky frame. It was fine for evening movies with Sans, cuddling under blankets and the occasional kick-fight (which he usually let Sans win) but horrible as a bed.

He grunted and stretched, mandible falling wide open in a yawn. Sans would nag him for sleeping in his day clothes, claiming it made him messy and lazy and made him look like crumpled paper. He usually only did it when napping or when he was drunk. And when he was drunk he slept like a log. Last night he'd been far from restful; waking up often to check his doppelganger wasn't up to more evildoing. But apart from one attempt at the front door, the house had been silent.

He dragged himself to his feet, his stretch extending from tailbone to neck, fists in the air above his head. The kitchen rang with inviting clinks and clangs and slightly muffled voices. Papyrus shuffled in and leant casually against the door frame.

His brother was standing on his 'cooking step stool', cheerfully stirring two pots on the stove. To his surprise, his doppelganger was next to him, hands deep in a mixing bowl.

"So, you have to knead the butter in, like you're squeezing it in. Yeah! That's it, you're doing great!" Sans was grinning, a wooden spoon in each hand, stirring jerkily.  
His doppelganger grimaced. "This feels unpleasantly greasy, is it truly necessary?!" The scarred skeleton glared down at the bowl and Papyrus took note that his gloves were missing. Apart from a few chips and scars the hands were identical to his own, until you saw how the phalanges tapered into deadly-looking claws.

"Yes. If you don't mix them right the tortillas won't be magnificent. Once you taste them you'll-oh hey Papy! Good morning lazy bones!" Sans waved, wobbling on the stool and his double whirled around with a look of shocked anger. Papyrus guessed he wasn't used to being taken off-guard.

Apparently he was more off-guard than any of them realised as he tripped on his own feet and fell sideways.

..

Sans yelped in distress and had only a second to drop the spoons, shooting out his hands to grab the falling skeleton. He felt himself wobble dangerously and just managed to brace his booted feet, his arms wrapping protectively around the thin frame. Gasping and blinking he stared down at the head pressed to his left shoulder. The other Papyrus' red pupils were wide and Sans felt a warm jolt in his soul as they blinked and then shifted up to him.

The other was pretty heavy and the small skeleton's arms ached. Nevertheless, he held on tighter, flushing when he realised his right hand was pressed to the back of the Papyrus' femur, just below his pubis. He could feel the shapely bones through the tight fabric of the black pants.

Unconsciously his fingers gripped tighter and his mouth dried at the other's sharp intake of breath. The red pupils trapped him, the other's mouth open slightly, a red tongue shining behind the jagged teeth. He felt his soul flare hot, his own blue tongue flicking against his teeth.

"Ehem... well I didn't think he'd be falling so fast for you bro hehe. "

Papyrus' voice reminded him abruptly that they weren't alone and his brother's doppelganger struggled from his arms. When he tried to grip the counter however, his buttery fingers slipped and they both gave a cry as the Papyrus dragged Sans off the stool. He yelped as they fell. They hit the floor, and Sans blinked dazedly with his cheek cushioned against the other’s ribcage,

\--

Papyrus grunted as his spine hit the kitchen tiles with a loud thud. Combined with the weight hitting his chest the tall skeleton ended up feeling winded. After the blur of the fall and the initial impact, Papyrus became aware of laughter.

His lazy double was bent over in hysterics, shoulders shaking with mirth under his grubby hoodie. Papyrus felt his eye twitch, a nasty blend of anger and mortification making him growl. "Fucking laugh again and I will stab you in the eye!"

He just laughed harder at the threat and Papyrus felt his embarrassed flush deepen in both heat and likely shade. He was about to unleash a furious tirade when the San's double moved and his breath caught in his throat. He shouldn’t be this sensitive. Every small shudder, every breath, every stuttering jerk as the smaller tried to right himself sent tingles through his bones.

“Release me you little fiend!” He gripped the small skeleton’s shoulders, pushing him back, and finally most of the cursed contact was lost. The Sans double blinked down at him for a moment before bursting into loud laughter. Papyrus flushed with renewed embarrassment. He had been in this world for less than 24 hours and he already his hard-earned reputation had been lost, his infamy meaning nothing to these buffoons. 

The Sans doppleganger caught his gaze, starry pupils awash with sparkling joy. From beneath his shirt a blue glow began to shine through and Papyrus felt a strange tug within his own chest. His soul seemed to constrict within his ribcage before it flung itself against his sternum and he grunted. What in the Underground?! As his soul continued to pulse, his own fear warring with a strange influx of excitement, he shoved at the smaller skeleton, cutting off the giggles with a loud “Oof” as the other toppled onto the floor.

His spine hurt but he dragged himself roughly to his feet, glaring between Sans looking hurt on the ground and his doppelganger who’s laughter had tapered off and left a vague threat in his single glowing pupil. Papyrus let out an angry snort, wrestling down the affronted squawk that wanted to escape. His cheekbones were no doubt still as red as his scarf as he stormed through the doorway without a backwards glance. 

He heard his doppelganger helping the Sans off the kitchen floor as he ascended the stairs. His brother’s double sounded as hurt as the expression he had made and Papyrus felt his soul pulse, aching for something. It both disturbed and frightened him. He sat down on the landing, knees drawn up to his chest. He hadn’t been frightened like this since his youth, it made him feel suddenly small and as he listened to the low murmur of voices below him, he almost wished his brother were there.


	8. Oh My...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I realise it's been a year since I updated this and I am dreadfully sorry for that.

The fizzle of energy that ran through his body had Sans gasping, biting back a grunt of discomfort between tightly-clenched fangs.

The crunch of fresh snow underfoot was grounding and the stout skeleton chose to focus on that as he surveyed his surroundings cautiously. The flakes of snow were falling steadily but not heavily and the wind was calm.

There was no sign of his brother but Sans' was not surprised, Papyrus never could keep still. Tugging up his hood with two clawed phalanges, he trudged through the snow, keeping watch for enemies lurking in the trees. His sneakers crunched through the snow but he avoided the occasional half-buried twigs and branches that littered the ground. He wasn’t as helpless as his stats might claim and most knew enough of either that, or the reputation of his brother to stay clear. There was no need to tempt fate however.

....

 

His search thus far had proved fruitless; no sign of his obnoxious brother, from his tattered scarf to his bright red boots. The snow had tapered off and left him in silence, only broken by the crunch of his sneakers and panting breaths.

He had passed from dense forest onto the main familiar path to the town a while back. Oddly he hadn’t heard the howls of any of the dog guards, or seen them, which was disconcerting. They patrolled regularly and there was always at least one in this area, which was a hotspot for violence.

Sans blinked as he lifted his head to look at a wooden sign in front of him. It read a cheerful 'Welcome to Snowdin' and twined around it were…. queer strings of brightly coloured lights? Sans found his mouth falling open against his will in shock. What in Underground was this?  
His fingers, stuffed deep in his pockets, ground against each other in worry. He didn’t like this. This wasn’t normal. The town had a few children but they wouldn’t risk pulling pranks like this and angering the local gangs or the guards. There had been a rather nasty incident a few years back, where some children had messed with the wrong gang. The three tiny piles of dust under striped shirts had horrified the entire town.

He doesn’t want to be near here. Sans hurries past the sign, sneakers crunching louder as his speed increases. The town isn’t quiet, with residents out and about going about their business. But the atmosphere is bizarre. Usually people walk in groups, protecting their family and allies. Today monsters are spread apart, some even wandering alone.

He tries to keep his head down as a fair few of the monsters turn to look at him. But something is very wrong. There is no ‘checking’ of his stats, no glares, no taunts. The monsters look curious, and none have the typical array of old scars that everyone in his world sports. The stump-

There is no stump in the middle of the main street. There is a fully grown tree, decorated in more of those queer twinkling lights and underneath… boxes wrapped in paper and ribbon? Sans blinks and ignores the monsters whispering around him, swallowing down his fear and rushing towards Grillby’s.

He barely registers the outside looking different as he shoves himself inside, hyperventilating. There’s a nagging, a creeping kind of terror in the back of his mind and he doesn’t want to-

“Good afternoon dearie, can I help you?”

Sans whirls around, hood falling back as he meets not the familiar purple of Grillby’s sneer he comes face to face with a.. Spider? She’s dressed in a blouse, dress pants and a bowtie, not much different from his usual bartender but why is she here? Did she kick Grillby out?

There are a few other patrons at the bar; a gang of bunnies and a horned individual snuggled in next to a mouse in an overlarge scarf. They stare at him briefly before going back to their conversations and he becomes aware of a skittering above him. He looks up and sees webbing.

The ceiling and rafters are woven with a thick net of webbing and small spiders are busying across and up and down, delivering cakes and beverages to the patrons. Muffet taps her clawed fingers on the surface of the bartop and he gulps, almost hyperventilating again when he realises.

This isn’t his universe.


End file.
